Midnight Encounter
by Wolfspirit44
Summary: He wasn't exactly sure how it came down to this. Jerza request.


**A/N: for the Anon who reviewed on _The Bombshell_ asking for a Jerza vampire AU. It's not a flu blown lemon, but a light lime. I know you probably wanted more lemony goodness, but for some reason, it just...well, didn't happen as much. Sorry for that, but I hope you like it nonetheless.**

* * *

When he sees her, sitting by herself in a little corner booth, his heart stops. With wide eyes, he takes her in hungrily, because she looks like a goddess.

First, there is red. A rich scarlet that looks alive under the dim lights. Thick and flowing, it drapes over her bare shoulders and winds sinuously down her back. He didn't think such a color could exist in this world, but obviously, he is wrong.

She turns, allowing him to clearly see his face. Deep brown eyes, full of mystery and seduction, meet his. Wine red lips quirk up in the faintest of smiles. She knows he is admiring her.

He gets up from his place at the bar and saunters over, drink in hand. Her eyes narrow as he comes closer, and as he takes a seat across from her, she leans forward across the table.

"You're a sight to see," she says, in a voice so alluring, that only interests him more.

"Really?" He says, his eyes wandering her face. He leans forward, mimicking her position, so that they are nose to nose, eye to eye. "How so?"

Her hand comes up, tracing the mark on his face. He doesn't flinch, just stares at her as she explores. "Your tattoo," she says after a moment of examination. "And your hair. Never thought I see it that color blue."

He reaches out and touches a strand of her hair that had fallen in her face. He sees her catch her breath at his close proximity, but pays it no mind. "I could say the same about yours," he notes.

She smiles.

He pulls his hand away, but doesn't move away from her. "What's your name?" He asks, taking a swig of his drink. Then he nods at her empty glass. "And can I get you another?"

She looks at her drink. "No thank you. I've had far too many tonight. However, I do want something else..." She trails off, her eyes glittering.

He decides to ignore her avoidance to giving her name. After all, the hints she's giving him bring a different thought to mind.

"Oh?" He says, raising a brow. "What would that be?"

She purses her lips enticingly, a subtle gesture that makes him want to kiss her. But he holds himself back, trying to keep his self restraint. But she is making it incredibly difficult for him.

"You want to get out of here?" She says after a moment, her eyes glittering with anticipation. He pauses for a moment, and then she licks her lips.

Damn, the effect this woman has on him. That was all it took. He nods in agreement, downs the last of his drink, then stands up. Reaching out a hand, he pulls her to her feet. She's wearing a little black dress tonight, exposing long, slender legs and revealing her snowy throat. His eyes land on her cleavage, and he has to suppress himself from taking her now.

He pays for their drinks, then takes her hand and leads her out of the bar. Once they've walked a far enough distance away, he turns to her. "Your place or mine?" He asks.

She leans forward and presses her lips against his ear. He gulps, feeling her body against his, all soft curves and seductive beauty. Her lips, which are dragging their way slowly up and down his cheek, smile.

"Follow me," she says.

* * *

He's not quite sure how it came to this. He remembers a dark hallway, an opening door, leading into a dark bedroom. Giant, queen sized bed. And her.

He remembers her, pushing him down on the bed and kissing him fiercely. Her lips tasted like wine and he moaned into her mouth. Hands roamed his body, declothing him and revealing his skin. Her skin pressed against his.

But this. This was something else.

She straddles him, red hair flying around her face. Black lingerie and lace. Fingers tracing the planes of muscle on his skin.

And the fangs. Can't forget those.

They poke out gently from her mouth, denting her lower lip. She drags her tongue across one, and he should find that disturbing, maybe even frightening. But for some reason, he doesn't.

She bends down, dragging her tongue up the column of his throat so that he groans deeply. "Are you scared?" She whispers against his skin.

He swallows. "No," he breathes.

Her head comes up and she stares intently in his eyes. "Really?" She says, intrigued. "What is your name, handsome?"

He sucks in a breath as she touches him _there._ White sparks appear before his eyes, and they haven't even gotten started yet.

"Jellal," he hisses. "Jellal Fernandes."

Her mouth quirks up into a smile. "Well, Jellal," she says. "I am quite glad you don't fear me. This makes it less painful."

His head jerks and he opens his mouth to complain, but her head rope to his throat before he could protest. He feels her tongue on his skin, and he feels a moment of lust before she bites.

White hot, lacing pain burns on his neck. He wants to cry out, he really does, but almost as soon as the pain begins, it stops. The burning ache is replaced with a passionate fire, and he subconsciously raises his hands, pressing her head closer to his neck. He feels her smile against him, can feel her swallowing hungrily. He should be disgusted, but he's not.

They stay that way for several minutes, her laying on top of him. She drinks heartily, lapping his blood while he holds her, one hand pressed on the back of her head and the other on the small of her back.

After several minutes, she stops, lets go of his throat, and pulls away from him. She kisses his skin, licking his neck, before raising her head and looking him in the eyes.

Her eyes seem brighter now, full of vitality. She smiles at him, and he watches as her fangs, which had appeared soon after they first began their dance of passion, shrink back to regular sized teeth. There's a trace of blood on her chin, so Jellal pushes himself up to his elbows. With a shaking hand, he wipes away the blood. That little gesture makes him more fatigued than it should.

She catches his hand and presses her lips against it. "Thank you," she says quietly.

He frowns, the edges of his vision becoming blurry. "For what?" He asks, feeling his words becoming slower. All of a sudden, he feels dreadfully sleepy.

She gets off of him and slips out from the bed. He struggles to follow, but his limbs don't seem to cooperate.

She gets dressed. Once she's fully clothed, does she answer. She turns to him with a glimmer of gratitude in her eyes. "For accepting what I am."

She goes to the door. Suddenly, with a feeling of desperation, Jellal uses the last of his waning strength to call out. "You... never answered me... from before...what...what's your name?" He whispers.

She smiles at him, then walks over and pushes him down onto the bed, flat like before. His eyes are closing, but she leans down and presses her lips against his ear.

 _Erza Scarlet_.

* * *

When he wakes, she is gone. But when he gets out of bed, he sees the marks on his neck, and a little piece of paper folded in half on the dresser.

 _Thank you._

* * *

 **A/N: a lot of the vampire fics I've read have Jellal as the vampire, so I thought I'd change it up a bit and make Erza the our fanged friend this time. To be honest, I think she fits the part pretty well.**

 **hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading. I'm still taking requests!**

 **-Wolf**


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